Little Drops of Blood
by Sinangeled
Summary: A collections of unrelated and brief B/A or B/Aus ficlets.
1. Predator

She was soft and sweet and safe, this girl. His girl.

Because beneath the guilt and the logic, the knowledge that this was wrong, that she was the Slayer, and he was one of the worst vampires to have terrorized the earth, there was the primal knowledge that Buffy was His.

Part of Angel didn't care about what was right and wrong, only what he wanted. And he had never wanted anything as much as he had wanted Buffy. She loved him, which was good. And he loved her, which he was sure she knew. But sometimes he wondered if she read into his behavior and saw just how obsessed with her he was.

He adored her, worshipped her, and wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, sweet girl and make tender passionate love to her.

He followed her, dreamt of her, and wanted nothing more than to kiss her until her lips bled and fuck her until she screamed.

The duality of his nature had little to do with Angelus, though the demon was always present, always watching. He simply was not a saint. He was a man, a vampire, and a carnal one at that. For centuries he had indulged in sex more often than death, and considering the score of dead he had racked up, that was considerable.

As pure and shining as his love for her was, the lust he had for the luminescent innocent was omnipresent. And it doubled the guilt.

Buffy was at this moment pressed trustingly into his side, as they snuggled on her couch. Joyce was left for the evening, foolishly leaving her sixteen year old daughter behind.

"Angel?" Buffy asked, turning green eyes up to meet his. He met her gaze, slightly ashamed.

"Yes love?" he replied, breaking eye contact, ducking his head down to brush his lips across her forehead.

"What are you thinking?" You had to ask, didn't you my love?

I could lie. I'm good at it. But Buffy can always tell.

"You," I say. Not a lie, not the whole truth. She knows this, my clever girl. Her lips twist wryly.

Buffy glances at the clock, and I see that it is late.

"It's late," we both say, and she laughs. Free, and lovely.

"I should…" I say.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Goodnight Angel."

"Goodnight Buffy," I say. I move to the door, and she moves to the stairs. She pauses halfway up.

"Angel?" she asks.

"Yes?"

"I think it too, you know?" She smiles at me and goes up to her room. I am stunned. And then I smile, locking the door on my way out.

For all her innocence and inexperience, Buffy is a predator too.


	2. Pieces

_These were all written ages ago; before I started posting fanfiction. They are little snippets of conversations between Buffy and Angel, or Buffy and Angelus._

_The lack of quotation marks might get a little confusing and I apologize in advance. _

_I am halfway done with the next chapter for Blindness, just an FYI. And thank you to everyone for being so patient. I've been awful._

_Also, a great bit thank you to RealMe2 for providing a great review that sort of kicked me into updating this, and continuing other work. _

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><p><em>I.<em>

_Buffy/Angelus_

There's nothing you can do to me. You've destroyed everything.

There's still you.

I don't care about me anymore.

I know. But you're still you. You may not care about yourself anymore but there are still plenty of innocents out there that I can use to threaten you. You may not give a damn about your life anymore but what about a little innocent six year old? I know you. I know what you'll choose.

Correction, you knew me.

Oh, really?

Yes really. I think that once I'm dead there won't be any reason for you to go on threatening people on my behalf. So I can handle a few deaths if it means I will be able to prevent more.

Really, I recall you saying something very different when someone told you that very same thing.

So?

And furthermore, who said anything about you being dead?

As I remember you did. Several times. On multiple occasions.

Ah, well, I'm a lying bastard, remember? You mustn't believe everything say.

I don't believe you.

And that's not always a bad idea, sweetheart.

_II._

_Buffy/Angelus_

And to think I used to have no patience with tears. You look exquisite.

_What-_

Your anger on the other hand I've always enjoyed. If I didn't loath the word cute so much I might be very tempted to apply it here. You're like a kitten trying to fight. You fall down and hurt yourself and it is just so damned _funny_.

_III._

_Buffy/Angel_

Jealous much?

That appears to be a central theme in our relationship

Wow. That really puts us in a negative light.

I know. Listen-

Don't even start. This is where you try to convince me of how awful we are together and how you should leave. But guess what? The whole noble angst thing you have going here? I'm pretty sure that someone else already has a copyright on that.

I'm a negative influence on your life.

My life without you? Yeah, it pretty much sucks. I mean, it still sorta sucks with you in it but the suckiness level was way higher before you got here and it'll be a lot worse when you leave. My life is one big suck fest. But you are like the rain on the sucky parade. I mean that in a loving way. You block some of the suckiness, you balance things out.

I love you too, sweetheart.

_IV._

_Buffy, Angelus, Xander, Willow_

What? None of your usual witticisms?

You aren't worth the effort.

Ohhh, burn! Nice one Buffy!

Shhh, he'll hear you!

Too late. C'mon Buff, you didn't tell me you brought your little friends to play. Now I'm hurt.

Aww, want me to kiss it better.

I'm sure he would.

Shhh!

_V._

_Buffy/Angelus_

So quick to kill me?

I just want this all to be over.

It not over and it won't be over until I say it is.

Wow, aren't we self centered?

I'm serious. You can kill me. But I'll be back.

I'll probably be dead by then even if that's even possible.

It doesn't matter, I will wait for you to be born again perhaps without even knowing it. This will never end Buffy. Never.

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><p>These kind of suck, I know, but they will never see the light of day otherwise.<p> 


	3. Come a Little Closer

_**This is seriously messed up. Okay? I wrote it, and it disturbs me a little. I was just trolling around not doing Calc homework when i rediscovered the twisted beauty of LovelyTomorrow's B/Aus fics, particularly **Reunion**. It is the BEST written Angelus I have every read. So go read it and review and help me get her to continue it. Seriously.**_

_**The sentiments inspired this. **_

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><p>Poor Buffy. She's looking so broken. I love it.<p>

Here she was, thinking that her _darling_ Angel had finally called on his _one true love_ to come and rescue him from the big bad beast. Maybe they could talk and do all the other emotional bullshit that they're into.

Sorry sweetheart. Just me here.

Wesley's looking a little uncertain. They're not used to seeing Buffy look lost. I am. I dedicated a good portion of my free time in Sunnydale just trying to put that look on the Slayer's face.

It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Where was I? Oh yes. Wesley and the rest of Team Angel graciously put her up in one of the hotel rooms and then practically shoved her down the stairs to the basement to talk to me. Everyone is always just too eager to sacrifice her, I wonder if she even notices anymore. By the slight wry twist of her luscious lips I am guessing she does.

Come here baby, come a little closer into the light.

She does, my poor thing, and she's not looking so good. A little too thin, a little too haggard. I don't mind the exhaustion though. She's so much more likely to give into me when she's so tired that she can barely stand up and sways a little on her feet. Like now.

_Come'ere lover_, I say, _haven't you missed me? I'm sure I've missed you. _

Ooh. Already so close to tears. This is just too easy.

Life hasn't been good to my darling. Angel's sweet, sweet girl has grown up much too fast, but the shelter of his love stopped her from ever learning to develop a skin thick enough to protect her from all the pain she experiences. That, and the fact that I so very effectively made sure that she would never be able to protect herself from me. You would think that the Powers would have been a little smarter. Just a little. The more they hurt my girl, the weaker she is. Against me anyway. Buffy's not bad at dealing with all the shit they've thrown at her, but I am very _very_ good at dealing with her. She's not going to be bleeding for the sake of humanity for much longer.

_Oh baby. You look so tired lover. Don't you just want to rest? I can make it better Buffy. _

Cordelia, that vacuous whore, had insisted they turn off the camera. Does she think that we don't all know that she has ulterior motives? Oh well, her mistake.

Buffy walks closer, spellbound. I am that good, thank you very much. She's crossed the danger line and is already too close to me. It might take me a while, but I could get my naïve little love back under my thumb again. I could make her get the key and unleash me, Angelus, the Scourge of fucking Europe. But I don't need to. Because I can tear into her pretty little throat and drain her nearly to the point of death. And then I can use the strength of her sweet hot Slayer blood, and I can rip these bars open and face the world.

And when I do, guess who I'll have at my side?

_That's right, come a little closer lover, the worst I can do is kill you. _

I'm lying.

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><p>Review please. And then go urge Lovely Tomorrow to write more BAus. A little hypocritical of me, considering the state of Blindness, but my fic isn't as good as hers. And Angelus isn't nearly as psyco. But I'm actually feeling a little inspired now. We'll see what happens.


	4. Body Drabbles

Body Drabbles

Skin (B/A) 100 words

She traces invisible patterns on his skin.

"It's so cool," she marvels.

"Though I never…"

"Yeah," he says quietly. He knows that her fascination with him can't be healthy for her. For either of them. Because it only feeds his growing obsession with her and were he to trail his hands over her hot skin he doesn't know if he'd be able to stop.

"It must be nice never to get hot," she says.

He's silent. He dreads the day when her skin is as cold as his is. Inside him, a demon laughs. She looks at him and wonders.

Bones (B/Aus) 250 words

"So now you're a coward as well as a monster," she spits at him.

He's been avoiding her since Jenny's death but every morning on her windowsill she finds drawings.

He smiles angelically at her.

'Sticks and stones may break my bones, darling. That is what you and those silly little children say, isn't it?"

She bares her teeth at him in an angry snarl.

She looks like a predator, he thinks. And she is. But she isn't a predator to him. She's just his. Time to change that look, he thinks.

"But words can hurt you, can't they darling?"

She's trying to ignore him. She must never ignore him. So now he wants to hurt her. Easiest way to do that is to bring up Angel, but he is loath to remind her of him. He doesn't matter, because he's gone now and shouldn't be competition to Angelus. Though he still is, and Angelus hates them both for it.

"It's awfully selfish of you really," he tells her. "After all, Jenny didn't feel any pain at all until I snapped her neck. Gosh I like those crunching sounds!"

She turns and flees. Pleasure at her pain and anger at her for running away war within him. She's not supposed to run. But eventually she will no longer be able to run away. She will exhaust herself. Or he will grow weary of waiting and break her until she can no longer escape him.

And then he'll have her forever.

Blood (B/A)

He is feverish, delirious, and dreams of red. The color drowns him, caresses him. Inside, a demon laughs.

Angel feels something cool on his face. Water trickles down the side of his head. A small warm hand gently touches the wound that throbs angrily. He hisses.

His world is tainted redder than ever, and when he looks at the golden child who loved him, held him, and took him into her body, he imagines her painted red, dripping with it, licking blood off of her lithe body.

Angel turns his head away in shame.

Much much later he will look back at the night with disgust and lust and remember that he did try to resist. But only for a little.

When he dreams there is a vast red ocean that pulls at him, urges him to give in. Damnably seductive, it calls to him, and tells him to get in his car and drive back to the sleepy little down where Buffy waits. He could pull her unresisting body close to his and drain her of her life. She would let him.

So he knows he can never return, for her sake and his. To do otherwise is madness.


	5. Aberration

_**I was in the mood while writing other stuff. As always, I own nothing. **_

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><p>It was a late Thursday afternoon and Angelus was feeling murderous. Granted, that was not an unusual state for him to be in, but for once, the feeling was not accompanied by a sense of anticipation, but rather, one of rage.<p>

Things had seemed so simple a month ago. He was free, and the world along with everyone in it, was going to pay. Particularly Buffy.

Her tears went a long way to sooth his rage, and he had happily devoted himself to the task of breaking her into a million little pieces. The judge was a fiasco, but in retrospect, a fortunate one. Once he had calmed down he realized that ridding the world of humanity spelled his own destruction. Drusilla was crazy, but he was not supposed to be. So he would focus his efforts on Buffy.

Angelus' problem was that he couldn't seem to get back to his old ways. He hunted, stalked, murdered, and tortured, but he was feeling empty. And when he slept, all he dreamt about was Buffy. He was not overly disturbed by that fact that he wanted her body, after all, she was a beautiful girl and he a vampire with a legendary appetite. The problem was that he wanted more. He wanted her with the exclusion of all others, and it infuriated him.

Drusilla had bored him decades before he got his soul. There was no way she could keep his interest now, not when there was a beguiling girl who was softer and sweeter than any Angelus had taken before.

His passions were often violent, harsh. He was not gentle or sweet or tender, the way Angel had been with Buffy. And while she might physically lust for him, she had made her disgust for him abundantly clear soon after their fight with the Judge. She didn't want _him_, and for once, it mattered. He wanted her to come to him, his name on her lips. But he remembered her hatred all too well.

Angelus scowled. He longed to pay her back for the kick she had delivered to his manhood. She'd look so pretty with her back dripping blood, hands fisted in chains.

He couldn't bring himself to do it. He planned on ending it the night when she was ill; it would have been so easy to spirit her away and make her pay. Her little friends and oblivious mother wouldn't miss her until sunrise, and he could have her out of the state by then. Or dead.

But just as she was unable to bring herself to kill him, the Scourge of Europe, the killer of her classmates, so to was he unable to seriously harm her. Every time they fought he would hold back, his aim not to seriously harm her, unconscious though it was at first.

It was insanity.

It was not safe for him to be obsessed with the slayer. She was deadly to his kind, and in the past he had never bothered to toy with one. He'd either left town, or, later on when his notoriety lead them to hunt him down, he had killed them. There was nothing like the blood of a slayer after all, and the council woefully underprepared their girls.

He could probably kill Buffy. It was already abundantly clear that in battle they were, at least for the time being, evenly matched. But her friends were good for little more than research, while he had minions and Drusilla. And an annoying cripple. He could send them all against her, tire her out, and kill her. He had seriously considered it for one ludicrous moment.

But Angelus couldn't tolerate the thought of a world without Buffy.

It wasn't love, he swore to himself. But it went further than any obsession he had ever felt before. And he didn't know what to do about it.


End file.
